


The Giving of Aid and Comfort

by twistedrunes



Series: George [22]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Betrayal, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fights, Gen, Language, Other, Outdoor Sex, Protection, Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-20 02:20:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17013711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedrunes/pseuds/twistedrunes
Summary: You feel your lip curling in disgust as he runs his hands over you, masquerading at patting you down. He squats, sliding his hand up your skirt and squeezing your thighs. As his hand brushes the edge of your underwear, you flick the blade concealed in your belt to his throat.“I’d be fuckin’ careful if I was you lad,” Alfie says from the doorway. The man slowly turns towards Alfie, hands held back away from you. “Yeah, last fella who touched ‘er inappropriately ended up a fuckin’ corpse,” Alfie says lazily before turning his attention back into the room speaking to someone you can’t see. “Mr Changretta, seems your fucking dog right, is trying to hump my friend’s leg innit. You want to call him off? Or should she just put ‘im down? Hmm?”





	The Giving of Aid and Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> This follows on directly from part 21 "Out of the Woods"

Tommy’s laughter at your teasing fades, replaced by the babbling of the river and the whisper of the breeze through the trees above you. A nervous silence stretches between you, each watching the other closely. Tentatively you trace the curve of his lips with your thumb, your fingers resting lightly on his jaw. Tommy’s eyes flutter closed under your touch. Cradling your head in his hand, he guides your mouth to his. His kiss uncertain at first, gentle and tender, becoming firmer and more demanding as you respond. He shivers and whispers sacrilege against your lips as your hands slip under his shirt, beckoning his hips to yours.

Breaking the kiss, Tommy’s eyes search yours, for once you don’t feel the need to look away. Thrilling at the hunger and desire you find there. You nod in response to the question they ask. Tommy tips your head, opening your neck to him. He kisses along your jaw, suckling on the flesh under your ear, his teeth grazing the skin causing your back to arch and your fingers to dig into his sides. Nails dragging along Tommy’s back, you pull up his shirt, grunting irritably when you are unable to remove it entirely. 

With a growling chuckle, Tommy releases you, kneeling between your legs and yanking it off over his head. “Better?”

You nod, moaning affirmatively, your hands exploring the taut muscles of his torso. Staying on his knees, he looks down on you, tongue gliding between his lips and pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. He releases his lip as he makes quick work of your shirt’s buttons. You shiver as his fingers follow your sternum, parting the fabric, tracing over the swell of your breasts before running along your sides. Your back arches with the sensation. 

Tommy’s fingers falter at the waistband of your pants. Your hips lift demanding more. Tommy’s eyes flash as he kneads your ass, pulling you hard against him. Leaning down to kiss you, he smooths his hand over your hair as he presses himself against you. The stimulation, even through layers of clothing, enough to make you moan like a whore.

“More?” Tommy growls in your ear, tugging the lobe gently between his teeth.

You grab his hair in your fist, opening his neck to you, “Yes.” You purr against his jugular, pressing your tongue against it. Tommy inhales sharply when you bite at his neck sucking the flesh into your mouth.

Tommy jerks out of your grasp, eyes blazing. “No marks.” He commands.

You laugh before pouting and stroking your fingers gently over the red mark on his neck “Okay princess.”    

Tommy’s eyebrows arch, smirking as he takes your hand, pressing his lips to your palm. “Are you sure you want to play games?” He challenges.

Grinning you wrap your legs firmly around his waist, pulling him off balance and forcing him onto his back. You settle yourself straddling his waist. Leaning forward you push his hands over his head. “Do you?” You tease, lips hovering over his. You laugh again as he attempts to kiss you, and you pull away.

Tommy shrugs and links his fingers behind his head. You kiss the middle of his chest, pressing your teeth into the skin. Tommy shoots you a warning look accompanying a low growl of “Behave.”

You hold his eye as you slide down his body, lips skimming over his skin until you are sitting on his thighs and your lips settle just above the waistband of his pants. Palming him, you smirk in satisfaction as his cock pulses under your hand. You arch your eyebrow questioningly as your fingers rest on the fly of Tommy’s pants. Tommy’s teeth sink into his lip again as his hips lift. His lip goes white when your hand comes in contact with his cock. Eyes closing as you free him from his boxers.

Suddenly his hands grab you under your arms dragging you up his body until you straddle his hips. With a feral moan, Tommy’s hands go to your waist, holding you against him as he rolls his hips. Your head falls backwards as his firmness presses against you, your hands spreading across his chest.

Tommy’s hand lifts to your cheek, you rub against it as it slides along your jaw. His fingers fisting in your hair and dragging you down. His mouth taking yours indecently. Again he rolls you on your back, making sure to wrap his arms around you, supporting you, holding your head gently so it doesn’t hit the ground.  His hand slips between you, swiftly undoing the fastenings on your pants. He kisses you softly, moving along your jaw “You have no idea how much I fucking want you.” He rumbles in your ear.

“I think I do.” You reply, rolling your hips against him, eyes flashing as he twitches and groans. You caress his cheek, holding his eye with a soft smile “I want you too.”

Tommy grunts, shuffling backwards, pulling your trousers off. Shuddering he rubs the head of his cock against the gusset of your underwear. Your legs flex, heels pushing against his ass forcing him closer, needing more.

“Take them off.” You demand, hands pushing your underwear down over your hips. Tommy does as he’s told, lifting your ankles to his shoulders as he does so. Again he glides his cock against you, bumping your clit. Your head falls back, as you pull handfuls of grass from the ground as you grind against him. Tommy stops, lowering your legs gently before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. Holding you against him and lifting you he guides himself to your entrance. Keeping you there until you squirm in agony. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, hands grasping at his jaw as you pull his mouth to yours. “Fuck me.” You plead before kissing him deeply.

Tommy flexes his hips and drives himself into you. You gasp into his mouth, fingers digging into any flesh you can find. Tommy’s arms hold you tightly, supporting your waist as he works you up and down his cock, setting the pace. Both gasping, you lower your head kissing and sucking on his neck, jaw and mouth. Tommy’s lips mutter prayers and curses against your skin, a mixture of English and Romani laid over you.

Impossibly soon your breathing begins to come in shorter bursts, your brain becoming foggy, only able to focus on the feelings within you. Words tumble from your mouth, mostly unintelligible but regularly punctuated with “fuck.” The tension in your stomach causes you to curl in on yourself, your forehead pressing into the crook of Tommy’s neck as you try to cling to reality.

Tommy slows slightly, mouth pressing to your ear, “Are you close darling?” he murmurs, his voice impossibly deep and vibrating through your chest seemingly directly to your clit.

“Uh, huh.” You keen.

Tommy’s hand rises to the back of your neck, supporting you. “Wait for me.” He begs.

“Mm,” You agree, teeth bared against his neck. 

Tommy’s arms pull you tighter, pushing you down against the increasing ferocity of his bucking hips. Your fingers dig into his shoulders and neck, a low whine coming from your throat as you try desperately to hold on. 

Tommy whispers encouragement and filth in your ear, before a final grunt of “Now.”

Swearing, bucking and kissing you cum together, eyes locked as you fuck the orgasm out of each other. Tommy holds you close until you stop shuddering. Laying you back reverently on the grass as he slips from you. You lie together, hands and mouths soothing each other between gasping breaths.  

“Let’s get back.” Tommy breathes heavily in your ear.

“No,” you say softly, “Let’s just stay here for a bit.”

You feel Tommy smile against your skin “You think we’re finished?” He asks, his hand sliding over your stomach, pressing against the still trembling muscles, his voice heavy and teasing. He nips at your neck before pulling away. 

Tommy fixes his pants and gets to his knees. He recovers your panties and shoves them in his pocket, before handing you your trousers. Once they are fastened, he takes your hands and pulls you up to sitting. He shuffles in front of you re-buttoning your shirt before kissing you again. “Come on.” He says taking your hand.

“Can’t walk.” You say with a grin.

Tommy grins back. Standing and pulling you to your feet before scooping you up. “That’s alright Princess, I’ve got you.”  

 

Tommy hands you a glass of whiskey before placing his hand lightly on your shoulder, moving you forward slightly as he slips behind you. Leaning back against the log, he adjusts himself, settling his legs either side or you, arms wrapped around you and chin resting on your shoulder. You tip your head back, looking through the trees to the stars. “You alright?” He asks kissing your temple.

You turn your head slightly and kiss his cheek softly “Yeah.”

“We could stay another night,” Tommy says pressing his lips your neck softly.

You shuffle, turning slightly and resting your temple in the crook of his neck. Your arm falling around his waist. Tommy bends his leg, so his thigh is supporting your back. “I’ve got to go to London tomorrow, got that meeting with Alfie.” You remind him. Tommy hums quietly indicating he remembers.

\----------------

Climbing the stairs of the nightclub you look out across the empty tables. Only the occasional staff member preparing for the coming evening giving the room any life at all. 

Despite the lack of patrons, there are a number of men placed in strategic positions around the venue. Hands clasped in front of them, one arm sitting slightly further out than the other, scanning the room, all vigilant to any sign of trouble. Some you recognise as Alfie’s, beards and white woollen fringes of their Tzitzit running down the front of their thighs a giveaway. Some are unfamiliar wearing double-breasted suits and trilby hats the Italians you assume.

Your breath catches as you recognise Goliath’s sparring partner. He smiles and lifts a hand in greeting. You clutch your purse with both hands, not trusting your hand not to shake if you attempt to return his greeting. You nod back, forcing your lips to turn up at the corners. Thankfully he doesn’t hold your eye for long. 

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before taking the final flight of stairs.

“Ollie,” you greet him as you reach the top of the stairs. Your eyes sliding to the man next to him.

“Anna.” Ollie nods in reply. “They’re waiting for you.” He says as he opens the door behind him.

The other man steps forward, blocking your path “Weapons.” He says bluntly.

Ollie gives you a little nod. Rolling your eyes in irritation you raise your hands “Shoulder holster’s on the left,” you say adjusting your arm, so it’s clearly visible under your jacket.

The goon leers, reaching out towards you, his hand grabbing your breast as he reaches for the gun. You glare. “Sorry doll, slipped.” He sniggers, dropping your pistol in his pocket.

You feel your lip curling in disgust as he runs his hands over you, masquerading at patting you down. He squats, sliding his hand up your skirt and squeezing your thighs. As his hand brushes the edge of your underwear, you flick the blade concealed in your belt to his throat.

“I’d be fuckin’ careful if I was you lad,” Alfie says from the doorway. The man slowly turns towards Alfie, hands held back away from you. “Yeah, last fella who touched ‘er inappropriately ended up a fuckin’ corpse,” Alfie says lazily before turning his attention back into the room speaking to someone you can’t see. “Mr Changretta, seems your fucking dog right, is trying to hump my friend’s leg innit. You want to call him off? Or should she just put ‘im down? Hmm?”

You hear the scraping of furniture and litany curses before another man appears in the doorway. He speaks rapidly and in Italian.

The man in front of you speaks “Apologies Mr Solomons’.”

“Yeah, not me you need to apologise to, is it?” Alfie says without bothering to look at the man.

“Sorry Miss.” The man says quickly.

You bend, keeping your eyes on the man in the doorway who you assume is Changretta until your mouth is level with the ear of the man kneeling in front of you. A smile on your face as you flick your wrist and hear the sharp inhalation of breath as steel scores flesh. Changretta’s eyes flare as a small ribbon of blood runs down towards the man’s collar. “Sorry doll, slipped.” You say sweetly. Plucking the silk handkerchief from his pocket, you wipe the blade as you step around him.

Alfie shakes his head, eyes sparkling with amusement as you approach him. “’Ello love.” He greets you embracing you and kissing both your cheeks. “That the Sabini one, or you got a collection?” Alfie asks playfully as he releases you.

“Different one.” You reply mischievously as you meet Alfie’s eye. You were proud of this knife having made it yourself. Now clean, you hand the blade to Alfie. 

He holds it up to the light, slipping his glasses on the end of his nose. “You making knives now too sweetie? Looks like your lovely work.”

You nod “Needed a hobby.” You say dryly.

Alfie laughs and places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you to the table. “Miss Anna Hunter, may I introduce Mr Luca Changretta. Mr Changretta, Miss Hunter.”

Changretta takes your offered hand, turning it and kissing the back of it “Miss Hunter.” He says smoothly.

You hold his eye “Mr Changretta.” Alfie pulls out a chair for you and you sit.

Changretta turns to Alfie “She helped take down Darby Sabini?” He says incredulously.

“Right well, she killed him. Yeah? Stuck a knife like this,” he holds up your knife which is still in his hand for Changretta to see, “in his neck. So yeah, you could say that.” Alfie replies, scratching the point of the blade along his jaw.

“I heard you killed him, Mr Solomons’.” Changretta says “Beat him to death.”

“I beat ‘im, yeah. But the fucker was already dead right, just hadn’t stopped breathing yet. I made sure it hurt more than it needed to.” Alfie says calmly handing you back your knife. “How many of those fuckers you kill that night love?” He asks you.

“Just the two Alfie, Sabini and Zamir.” You say plainly placing the blade deliberately on the table in front of you.  

“Yeah, but you were nearly fucking dead yerself,” Alfie says as if providing an explanation for your low body count that night.  

Changretta’s men give each other sly looks, “Ira di Dio.” One of them says in hushed tones. Changretta holds up a hand to silence them.

“Yeah, that’s right the Wrath of God. That’s what they call ‘er.” Alfie says evenly. Changretta and his men look at Alfie unable to hide their surprise. Alfie continues “So your fucking mutt out there should be counting his fucking lucky stars innit.”

Changretta shrugs and rolls the toothpick in his mouth from one side of his mouth to the other.  

“Shall we get down to business?” You say flatly.

“Mr Solomon’s tells me you can assist me in my vendetta against the Shelby’s,” Changretta says seemingly unconvinced. “Yet my information tells me you are very close to the Shelby’s. That they treat you as one of their own.”

You laugh coldly. “Only the Shelby’s are Shelby’s. They are the reason the man I love is dead.” 

Alfie’s hand rubs your shoulder. “My nephew intended to marry Miss Hunter, so she’s my family. Not a fucking Shelby. The information Tommy gave us about Sabini was bad. He said my Nephew and Anna were not in danger. They were. Goliath is dead, and Anna was kidnapped, raped and beaten within an inch of her life. This here,” Alfie points to your cheek, “is solely on Thomas Fuckin’ Shelby. No one at this table has any loyalty to the fucking Shelby’s.” He says plainly.

“So why haven’t you just killed him? My sources tell me you have had ample opportunity.” Changretta turns his attention to you again.

“I want him to suffer. Like I am. Knowing that his empire has crumbled and his brothers, aunt and cousin are dead. That he has nothing, that he is nothing. That will destroy him. Killing him now would be a mercy.” You say flatly. “Plus if I killed him, I’d have his deranged fucking brothers and all the fucking Gypsy’s after me.”

Changretta nods thoughtfully “What kind of access do you have?”

“I can get access to any business information you need. Anything you need to know about the family. I can get it.” You say simply.

“How close are you to Thomas Shelby?”

“In his bed.” You say calmly. To his credit, Alfie doesn’t even twitch at the revelation.

“From what I’ve heard that’s no great feat. Mr Shebly has many whores both in his employ and his bed.” Changretta says coldly. “So what makes you special?” 

“He’s never waited more than two years to bed, someone.” You say with a dismissive shrug. “Stupid fuck probably thinks I love him. Probably thinks I’ll fucking save him from himself too.”

\---------------

Your hand goes instinctively to the revolver on your bedside before you even realise what has woken you. The knocking on your front door starts up again as if to prompt you. Anxiety propels you out of bed to the window. You part the curtains and give silent thanks for the full moon which illuminates your doorstep. Looking down you instantly know who it is, Tommy. But he’s holding himself oddly, leaning heavily against the wall. Your eyes travel quickly over the surrounds. Only one car on the road. No other signs of life. You glance at your alarm clock. It’s three-thirty in the morning. Something is wrong. You hurry down the stairs slipping the revolver into the pocket of your dressing gown.  

“Fuck Tommy! It’s half three in the morning, what the hell are you doing here?” You admonish as you open the door. Only to let out a gasp as you look at the figure in front of you, wet, dirty, bruised and bleeding.

“Just,” he pauses wincing as he jerks himself forward off the brickwork, “just, needed to see you.” Tommy mumbles, reaching out and grazing his fingers over the back of your hand. The simple action causing him to sway dangerously.  

“Fuck.” You grunt, grabbing the lapels of his overcoat and pulling him inside. In the light of the hall you pull his cap off his head and look at his face, it’s worse than it first looked. His eye swollen shut, a deep gash over it and lips fat, split and bruising. “What the fuck's happened? Who’s with you?” You say, glancing over his shoulder, as you help him remove his overcoat. He winces again, definitely at least one cracked rib you realise.

“Had a fight.” He replies, you notice the pungent smell of whiskey on his breath.

“Who the fuck with?” You demand

Tommy’s hands come to your waist, and he presses his head to your shoulder. “Cavalry cunts.” He mumbles in agreement.

You gently coax his face from your neck, taking his face in your hands and forcing him to look at you. “Tommy, I need you to tell me what happened. Who else was there? Is anyone else hurt? Is anyone in danger?” You insist.

Tommy blinks at you slowly before snapping his head back and out of your grasp. “Disrespectful cunts! Shouldn’t have fucking touched you like that.” He says forcefully not answering your questions.

“Were you at Alea Manor tonight?” You demand. Earlier in the evening when a bucks party of Cavalrymen had gotten rowdy. When you had come out of your office to investigate, one had grabbed you and pinned you against the wall. Sticking his hands up your skirts and demanding you fuck him. Then seeing the scar on your face had backhanded you declaring how ugly all the whores were. After the Peaky Boys had him under control, you had been able to reason with their Staff Sargent to take them all home, before things got messy

Tommy nods taking your face in his hands scrutinising you “Did he hurt you?”

“No Tommy he didn’t hurt me.” You assure him. “How did you even find out?” You hadn’t seen Tommy all day.

“I was there. Coming upstairs, I saw. So the boys’ and I sorted ‘em out.”

“Tommy there were at least fourteen of them.” You sigh. “It was under control.” Tommy just shrugs. You nod, realising you’re not going to be able to draw him out any further at this point. Sliding your arm around his waist, you tug his arm around your shoulders guiding him into the kitchen. “How’d you get here?” You ask wondering why whichever Peaky had driven him here had left him alone on the doorstep. You pull out a chair and hold Tommy’s waist as he lowers himself into it.

“Drove.” Tommy answers.

“Yourself? How did you even see?” You ask in disbelief.

“Know it like the back of my hand.” He says defensively.

You bend to examine the cut above Tommy’s eyebrow, wondering if your house had been his intended destination or if his brain had just suggested it as a method of self-preservation knowing he wouldn’t make it the whole way home. Tommy flinches as your thumb brushes over the abraded skin. “Okay, Tommy. I’m going to call the doctor and have him meet us at your place. I’ll drive you home.”

Tommy’s hand catches your wrist, holding it tightly “Can’t go home.” He says his eyes darkening.

“Of course you can go home, Tommy. It was just some Calvary cunts, wasn’t it? No one else?” You double check.

“Cunts.” Tommy agrees angrily before shaking his head, eyes closing. He leans forward resting his head on the table. “Can’t go home.” He repeats

“Okay, Tommy, I’ll call the doctor and have him come here,” you say leaving the door between the two rooms open so you can watch him while you make your call.

“The doctor will be here soon, Tommy.” You say placing a hand on his shoulder.

Tommy sits bolt upright, eyes wild. “Can’t let Charlie see.” He says voice so soft it creaks. “Scares him.”

You can see the hopelessness in his eyes as his arms wrap around your waist as he rests his cheek against your stomach. You cradle his head, your hand pressed to his jaw, while the other rubs his shoulders. Tommy’s clutches at your hand “I’m just like him.” He says.

“Who?” you ask quietly.

“My dad. I promised Grace I wouldn’t be like him, but I am, and now Charlie’s scared of me.” He says voice like dried paper, cracking as he says his son’s name.

Tommy says nothing more, clinging to you desperately. You don’t move until the doctor arrives.

 

Leaving them alone, you return to the sitting room and pick up the phone. First, you call Mary to explain where Tommy is. Then Alea House to find out what had gone on. Finally Alfie.

“Anna?” Doctor Prendergast calls after a gentle knock on the door.

You open the door for him. “How is he?” You ask plainly.

“Drunk. At least one cracked rib. I had to stitch above his eye. Cuts and bruises. Likely a mild concussion. He’ll need someone to stay with him tonight.” He explains. “He’ll live.” He says as an afterthought. 

“Yeah. He can stay here, can you help me get him upstairs?” You ask.

“Of course.” The Doctor replies, you turn to return to Tommy. “How are you?” The doctor stops you, fingers brushing your cheek. He frowns at the light bruising there. “I told you Anna, one more big hit to that bone and no amount of money or good luck will be able to fix it. You’ll be lucky not to lose the eye.”

“I know Doc.” You say rubbing his arm affectionately. “But it’s an occupational hazard. Come on let’s get Tommy upstairs before we’re all dead on our feet.”

You strip Tommy down, cleaning the blood and dirt off as best you can with a basin of warm water and a cloth. Leaving him in only his boxers, you fold back the covers for him. He climbs in and lays back gingerly. You stand to sit in the chair in the corner, but Tommy’s hand catches yours. “Don’t go.” He says quietly.

“I’m just gonna,” You begin.

“Stay with me,” Tommy says pulling you back.

“Alright.” You concede, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Tommy shuffles over and places his head on your lap. With a sigh your stroke his hair until he falls asleep.


End file.
